


Break In, Break Him

by IdunAurora



Series: Diamonds are forever [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Security Guard! Viktor, Thief! Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 11:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11312028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdunAurora/pseuds/IdunAurora
Summary: Having managed to escape Osaka and Japan with a medallion and a heap of cash, Phichit drags Yuuri and the gang to Russia once again, this time to get their (or rather Yuuri's) hands on a gloriously expensive necklace that is in the possession of one Lilia Baranovskaya. Some complications make the task just a little more tedious than they would like, and Phichit finds the perfect way to keep all suspicions away from their interest in the actress' villa: sending Yuuri to literally seduce Yakov Feltsman's Chief Security Guard into thinking they're after something in the manor instead.While Viktor has some qualms concerning his less than professional approach when it comes to the teasing cat burglar, he finds every last pathetic bit of resolve burn to dust with Yuuri's every touch.If only Yuuri would allow Viktor to touch him, too...





	Break In, Break Him

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for mature themes, nothing graphic. Also, if you haven't noticed before, I know absolutely nothing about professional criminalism (that's not a word in English, is it? I can't even translate when tired...) or jewelry or really anything, and this is purely self-indulgent. Still, have some Eros Yuuri and flustered Viktor!

”Now that’s what I call a job well done and a drink well deserved.” Phichit grinned, utterly satisfied as he held up the silver medallion with fire red rubies sparkling in the light of the lone light-bulb dangling from the ceiling. “Got the medallion, got the cash.” He raised his glass of champagne in a toast. “Kanpai!”

“Kanpai.” Yuuri seconded, sipping the sparkling wine with a smug smile on his lips. “They never stood a chance.”

“Not one.” Phichit agreed, handing the medallion over to Yuuri’s gloved hand. “You were way too fast for old Feltsman and his guards.” He winked. “Think loverboy recognized you?”

Yuuri shook his head, “Not there and then, he didn’t.” He said confidently, placing the piece of jewelry back into its black velvet box. “He’s not used to seeing me wear glasses and a suit with my hair combed down. He undoubtedly suspects me, though.”

“Better keep him wound around your finger, then.” Phichit shrugged, nudging the briefcase on the floor with his foot. “We should get going to Italy as fast as possible, and then, we have a new mission.”

Yuuri hummed, taking another sip of Bollinger, “Tell me more.”

Phichit’s eyes glimmered as a devious smile spread on his lips.

“Apassionato.”

Yuuri mirrored the smirk.

“Back to Russia.”

 

**

 

It had been Yuuri.

It _had_ to have been Yuuri.

Even though the man that had bumped into Mr. Feltsman hadn’t looked like the Yuuri that Viktor had gotten used to seeing, it had surely been him. _If_ it had been Yuuri (and it _had_ to have been him), it was the first time Viktor had seen him… _not_ in a dress and make up (or in lingerie).

Back in Osaka, Yuuri had been wearing a suit that made him miles more unassuming, and his charcoal black hair had been combed down instead of slicked back. To top it off, a pair of spectacles had been resting on the bridge of his nose. There was no way Viktor would have recognized him there and then.

So… could it really have been him?

…yes. It could have. It _definitely_ had.

Which in turn meant that Yuuri the cat burglar, Yuuri the jewelry thief, was no doubt in possession of the real Inferno-medallion now. Yakov had (perhaps fortunately) not bothered to check the one that had been brought back to Russia too closely, and Viktor was absolutely and positively certain that the one they had taken with them from Osaka was fake.

News had reached the Feltsman syndicate that the auctioneers also had been robbed of all the money brought in by the event the very same night it had been held, but all they had as a lead was that they were looking for two average-sized people they didn’t know the gender of. Needless to say, that really wasn’t much of a lead at all, and so far, no one had been able to either identify or find the pair.

One of them had to be Yuuri, Viktor figured. Or rather, he just _knew_. He also quietly wondered who Yuuri’s partner in crime could possibly be. A friend, perhaps? Or a brother?

…a lover?

Pursing his lips, the security guard shoved the last thought into the deepest, darkest pits of his mind and willed it to stay there. He was _not_ going to be jealous because of some enthralling cat burglar and frankly brilliant jewelry thief that had swept in that one evening to steal Mr. Feltsman’s most prized possessions (the diamonds) and ran away with both them and Viktor’s heart.

_…wait, what?_

Viktor buried his face in his hands, hissing through gritted teeth.

_Well, fuck_.

 

**

 

“Briefing time!” Phichit announced excitedly, spreading out a blueprint of a building on the table in their St. Petersburg hideout, sliding down on a chair, “As you know, the Apassionato-necklace is in the possession of actress Lilia Baranovskaya, Yakov Feltsman’s ex-wife. She lives in a villa not too far from the Feltsman manor.”

He nodded towards the only female around the table, “Sara here has managed to locate the position of the necklace, which apparently is the dressing room, right next to the master bedroom.” He pointed out the location on the map. “Second floor, third window on the left.”

“Guards?” Yuuri inquired, examining the blueprint closely, attempting to engrave it into memory.

“Four dogs, pit bulls.” Phichit informed him, gesturing towards a couple of sets of tranquilizer darts on the corner table. “And a butler that sleeps on the floor below, right beneath the madam’s bedroom.”

Yuuri nodded, “I’ll go in from the other side rather than risked being seen by him, then.”

“We’ll cover for you.” Michele nodded in agreement, tilting his head towards his twin sister beside him. “I’ll tranquilize the dogs and take the garden, and Sara will take the roof.”

“Agreed.” Phichit nodded. “The hounds should come to long before dawn, so the sedatives shouldn’t, and won’t be, traceable. Just remember to remove the darts. You good taking the roof, Sara?”

“All good.” She assured confidently, rummaging through her weaponry for a suitable rifle, preferably a sniper one.

Phichit’s smile turned sheepish, “There is one catch to all of this, though.”

Despite his expression, Phichit’s tone had become laced with an undertone of grave seriousness. Sara stopped with her ministrations to look up and Michele blinked. Yuuri was the first to catch on, expression darkening:

“You’re kidding.” He spoke slowly, tone an octave lower than usual, as if being intimidating would make the insufferable obstacle go away. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

“I wish I was.” Phichit sighed apologetically, running a hand through his hair. “I managed to find the documents of the transaction from the goldsmith Feltsman hires, but I can’t find anything that reveals what it actually _looks_ like.”

“There are pictures of Apassionato all over the _Internet_.” Michele stated, still puzzled. “What’s stopping Leo and Guang-Hong from replicating the thing?” Yuuri gave him a grim look.

“Old Feltsman has had it engraved.”

Silence fell for two seconds. Then, Michele cursed through his teeth and Sara gave up an angry hiss.

“Are you saying we have to do this _twice?_ ” she more stated than asked, pointing a finger at Phichit, “To get the engraving right on the replica?”

“That, my lady, is exactly what I’m saying.” Phichit nodded, offering her a sympathetic and unamused smile. “Yuuri will go in, photograph the necklace, and get out. Leo and Guang-Hong will then finish the replica and then we have to repeat the entire thing – except that the second time, Yuuri leaves the replica behind and steals the real deal.”

“And what about the real thing when we finally have it?” Sara inquired, crossing her arms, “Our buyer isn’t going to pay for an engraving that can be traced to either Baranovskaya or Feltsman.”

“Leo and Guang-Hong will take care of that.” Phichit assured. “The cash we stole was more than enough to purchase materials and instruments for it; we’ll be payed it all back and more when we get the necklace to Canada.”

When the twins headed off to clean their weaponry, Phichit handed Yuuri another blueprint.

A familiar one.

“I thought you might want to refresh your memory a little.” He grinned, giving Yuuri a wink. “Distract him a little, will you? Derive his attention from our… real purpose of being here, all right?”

The devious grin he got in response was answer enough.

 

The task of sneaking into Lilia Baranovskaya’s fancy residence to photograph Apassionato was easier than Yuuri would have dared to hope. Then again, Sara and Michele were devilishly brilliant when it came to covering his behind, and Yuuri could very well cover his own tracks.

Not that he left any to begin with. Not unless he wanted to.

He suppressed a snort when he found the words _Lilia – Zvezda Moya_ engraved onto the back of the delicate gold and diamond necklace. Lilia Baranovskaya was a star, sure, and she was probably Feltsman’s star to this day, even if they hadn’t been married for about ten years. Yuuri found himself wondering if Baranovskaya even wore the necklace any longer.

…she probably did. The necklace was too beautiful not to be worn.

Yuuri, Sara and Michele made it back to the hideout a mere three hours after they had left, and Leo and Guang-Hong were waiting with all their equipment ready. While the jewelers and master scammers got to work, Sara and Michele went to get some rest, and Phichit pulled Yuuri into the main room of the hideout, handing him a card the second he had closed the door.

“Roses Hotel, room 510, booked for you tomorrow night, Mr. Nishigori. You have the twins on look-out for you.”

Yuuri gave up a small chuckle, “Ho generous of Takeshi to lend his identity.” He pocketed the card. “I better get going, then, if my… company is going to receive the invitation.” He cocked an eyebrow at the Thai. “Do you have my back while the twins get some sleep, then?”

Phichit winked, “Always. Just remember to change into something more… suitable.”

 

**

 

Viktor was exhausted.

Actually, he was beyond exhausted, and hence, he practically fell onto the bed in the evening, melting into the covers. He really wanted nothing more than a good night’s sleep while Mila handled the night shift together with Georgi. So, completely naked as always, save for his boxers that he just didn’t have the energy to pry off himself, he barely made it about halfway under the duvet before drifting off.

For months now, he had had the sweetest dreams possible, and they returned again that night, heavily featuring his favorite cat burglar.

He dreamt that Yuuri entered his room through the window, swift and silent, gliding onto the bed to straddle Viktor before leaning down to press burning kisses against his aching lips. Dream-Yuuri then moved lower, not holding back like he had the previous times, but biting and sucking on marble pale skin to cover it in blossoming marks of red and purple (Viktor hoped they would never fade), all the while making his way lower, lower…

…until he suddenly moved up again, taking hold of Viktor’s wrists and pinning them tightly to the bed, covering his mouth with… his hand.

…wait. How many hands did a human have again?

Viktor’s eyes flew open in shock, but the gasp never made it out of his mouth, because it was indeed covered by a firm, familiar hand. The security guard then attempted to move his arms, only to find them restrained to his sides by a strong pair of legs.

… _oh lord_ …

The reason for his confinement was sitting right on top of him, and Viktor soon forgot about his immovable arms, and really, the hand on his mouth wasn’t needed; he couldn’t have found words even if he tried. Yuuri’s chocolate pools looked more like onyxes in the faint moonlight filtering in through the curtains, dark orbs glittering precariously with amusement.

He was… _very close_ , Viktor realized, causing a heatwave to spread from his face down his neck and probably all the way to his chest. Their noses were almost touching, and their lips would be, too, if there hadn’t been a damned _hand_ in the way.

Because heavens knew how much Viktor wanted to kiss the young man senseless.

“Privet, Vitya,” Yuuri breathed, voice dangerously quiet, a devious smirk stretching out on invitingly soft lips, “missed me?” he placed a small kiss on Viktor’s nose, stroking his cheek teasingly with his free hand, “Now, be a good boy and keep your voice down for me, da?”

Yuuri was picking up on Russian, apparently, and that revelation along with the endearing pet name did _not at all funny_ things to Viktor’s, uh… well, heart, for example. Also lower down, where his stomach was filled with rapidly fluttering butterflies.

And also a little lower still. God, fucking, _damnit!_

He felt his head nothing before he had time to properly process everything, but he really, really wanted to kiss Yuuri. So, yes, he could do that. Quiet. Yuuri’s smirk widened into a grin.

“Good boy.” He praised, barely above a whisper. He then removed his hand from Viktor’s mouth only to replace it with scorching lips. Viktor fruitlessly attempted to hold back a low moan in the back of his throat, and just as soon as he regretted it, he didn’t, because feeling Yuuri’s mouth quirk into an all too pleased smile against his own, tingling lips was well worth it.

“Missed you.” Viktor whispered breathlessly when Yuuri showed some mercy and allowed him some oxygen. The cat burglar chuckled quietly.

“Oh?” he mused, innocently shifting on top of Viktor to tease his not too subtle (rock-hard) erection through thin layers of fabric and the Russian absolutely couldn’t breathe, “Tell me more.”

It was a demand.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Viktor breathed, his pleasure-hazed mind struggling to stay coherent as Yuuri firmly grinded against him without even giving him the chance to _touch_. “I wanted to see you again; taste you again. Like a secre- _ah!_ ” he halted mid-word to stifle a gasp as Yuuri suddenly bucked his hips, “Boshe moy…!”

Yuuri’s smirk turned devilish, “A secret, hm?”

Viktor swallowed, mouth completely dry.

“Yeah, a secret. Like a sin.”

The cat burglar hummed against his skin, lazily trailing the tip of his tongue along Viktor’s chest and down to his nipple, making him shiver.

“A sin.” He repeated huskily, blowing cool air onto the bud, forcing Viktor to turn his head to bite into the pillow in order for him to stay quiet. “I like that.” Then, he nipped at the bud, and Viktor muffled a groan into the pillow, attempting to steady his heavy breathing.

Yuuri was a _cursed_ and fucking _gorgeous_ little _demon_. It really wasn’t even funny anymore how much Viktor wanted to rip that infuriatingly restraining fabric off him and do things to him that without a shadow of a doubt would mess up that charmingly slicked-back hair and preferably render him unable to walk for at least a week.

As if having heard his thoughts (…he had voiced them aloud, hadn’t he?), the cat burglar made his way back up Viktor’s chest and neck, both hands coming to cup his cheeks as he brushed his lips against the Russians, burning with a teasing fire, with passion.

Demanding.

“Vitya.” Yuuri whispered slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor the name, like he was tasting a delicious dessert and never wanted to forget the taste, and boy did that do things to Viktor’s treacherous body. A pleased shudder crawled up his spine making his skin tingle, his heart fluttered, hips bucked beyond control, and his hands desperately and futilely tried to move in an attempt to _touch_ the man who was reducing him to a pile of gooey mess without doing _anything_.

…actually, he was definitely doing _something_.

“Please.”

The simple word was out of his mouth before he could comprehend he had tried uttering it. It came out as a quiet, small whimper, but Yuuri’s treatment was heavenly torture, and Viktor could _not_ take it any longer.

Yuuri’s triumphant grin would have made the devil himself proud. He leaned down and hummed, slightly vibrating lips barely touching Viktor’s parted ones.

“Please, what?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, dark lashes fluttering against milky skin.

“Please,” Viktor repeated, searching every corner of his minds for words that Yuuri’s ministrations made sure to rid him off at alarming speed, “kiss me, touch me, let me touch _you_ , Yuuri, please.” He could feel the salt gathering in the corners of his eyes in misery.

“Ah,” the cat burglar tilted his head slightly, “well…” he leaned down to catch Viktor’s pliant lips in a slow, deep, languid kiss. The Russian eagerly responded, internally cursing himself yet again for constantly allowing Yuuri to break in and break _him_ , and never regretting it in the slightest. If Yakov knew, he would probably kill him.

Yuuri broke the kiss, speaking against Viktor’s lips, “You want to touch me, huh?”

_Oh, lord, yes!_

“Very much.” Viktor confirmed, out of breath after the searing kiss. Yuuri hummed, indulging him with another one that had his erection throbbing painfully in his boxers.

“Then,” the cat burglar leaned down to murmur against the shell of his ear, sending a pleasant shudder up his spine, “next evening, at ten.”

“Where?” Viktor huffed out as quietly as possible when Yuuri grinded down again.

“Hmm…” the cat burglar trailed a lone finger along Viktor’s neck, nibbling his earlobe, “…I have one condition.”

Viktor stifled another embarrassing groan, “Anything.”

He could almost feel the satisfied smirk against his skin.

“Tell no one where you’re going and come alone.” He instructed. “And if anyone’s with you, or following you in any way, they will be… taken care of. But,” he pulled back a little to look Viktor in the eye, dark orbs twinkling down at him, “if you do as I tell you to, I promise to take care of you.”

_Viktor, no. No, nyet, absolutely n-_

“I won’t tell a soul and I’ll come alone.”

Whatever he had left of his pathetic excuse for resolve crumbled along with the most sugary sweet, devil smile adorning Yuuri’s pink lips for a moment before they claimed his in a heated kiss that was burning Viktor up from the inside and it just. Wasn’t. Enough.

For the first time that night, it seemed like Yuuri had to use pure willpower to pull away, sending a small jolt of pride through Viktor’s chest.

“Roses Hotel, room 510.” The cat burglar murmured against swollen lips. “Then, you can touch.”

Before Viktor’s short-circuited brain had the time to recover, Yuuri had suddenly jumped off him, landing silently on the floor, the tight fabric of his black outfit clinging tightly against smooth curves, a half-skirt flaring around his hip. He blew Viktor a kiss before simply jumping out through the window, closing it swiftly behind him, leaving no other trace than slightly ruffled sheets and…

Viktor cursed through his teeth, pushing down his restraining underwear to shamelessly take care of his Yuuri-induced problem.

He was so, so screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to be in a specific mindset when writing anything for this series, hence the irregular updating. If I'm not, it usually doesn't end up feeling even remotely right, to be honest... but there is a story arch for this series, too, so one day I'll probably finish it (I don't like to leave anything halfway done, even if it takes time *glances at the halfway-written novel glaring from the Scrivener-tab*).
> 
> Sometimes the only way to write off some steam for me is to write Eros Yuuri and hot-and-bothered Viktor. This time, this happened, and now I better post it before I have second thoughts, because how do you even write this kind of stuff in English...! Still, hope you enjoyed :'D


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